


All Tied Up

by SierraBravo



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, Handcuffs, Sex, canon typical amount of serial killers, hints of parenting, pre Martin's arrest, they may be having hetero sex but they are both bi in my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23719039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SierraBravo/pseuds/SierraBravo
Summary: Sometime around 1997 Martin gets just a taste of the life he will spend in chains, though in a slightly more pleasurable manner.
Relationships: Jessica Whitly/Martin Whitly
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	All Tied Up

The night was dark by the time Martin pushed open the front door, but the city was not. It never was, not really. But still, the warm welcoming light of home enveloped him and it did feel good. He had put down his things, locked the door behind him and taken off his coat and shoes when he heard the scream. It started far away, but got closer, followed by the rapid patter of small feet.

"Daddy!" Ainsley yelled, throwing her arms around his leg.

They had, evidently, been in the middle of bedtime, because his daughter was wearing pyjamas with little cats on it, but had half a dozen hair clips full of glitter in her long, messy hair still, and a smudge of toothpaste which had somehow gotten on her forehead.

"Daddy read me story tonight," Ainsley informed him with all the imperiousness of her four years.

"I told her," Jessica said, as she approached at a more leisurely pace, absurd heels she insisted on even indoors clicking on the floor, "that I didn't think you'd be home before she fell asleep."

"Happy to be wrong, of course," she added, leaning in to kiss his cheek and murmuring that they had been at it for nearly an hour.

There was a pleading sort of desperation in her voice, one that said she was definitely swallowing a painkiller with some scotch when the little one was in bed.

"Then we shall finish up, the two of us, does that sound acceptable, my dear?"

"Yes," Ainsley and Jessica both said, at the exact same time but with entirely different tones.

He gently extricated his young daughter from around his leg and led her back in the direction of her bedroom.

-

"Is the little terror in bed?" Jessica asked, looking up from the book she was reading.

"She's a princess fairy mermaid, actually, as she informed me repeatedly."

"Lovely. And Malcolm?"

He sat down next to her on the bed, taking the glass from her hand and taking a sip, enjoying the faint burn of the expensive alcohol.

"Pretending to sleep but reading under the covers."

"Well, that's his problem when he's too tired in the morning. Maybe he'll learn."

"Probably not."

"No, you're right. Still. Consequences are good, I feel sure I read that somewhere. Punishments and such. Good lesson."

"Oh? You think we should punish him?"

"No," she said, setting her book down, "but I do think _you_ ought to be punished."

"Me? What have I done?"he demanded with performative outrage.

Memories of the people he had killed flashed briefly through his mind, but given Jessica's dark eyes and hint of a smirk he suspected that this was not what she was referring to.

"You told me you'd be home by six," she said, and her voice had gone all deep and delicious, and it was inspiring entirely different mental images now.

"Well, you got my call, didn't you? Surgical complications. It happens, I'm afraid. Entirely the patient's fault, I can assure you."

It had been. Well, it had for the first hour or so. The two after it had been for his more, well, extracurricular activities. Some necessary research. 

"Oh yes," she said, tugging on his tie, pulling him into a brief kiss, "but it's the second time this week. One would almost think you had a mistress."

"None but Asclepius, I promise."

She rolled her eyes at that. Loosening the knot of his tie and pulling it from his neck, she hung it over the headboard, before her fingers found his shirt, slowly starting to unbutton it. She liked to be the one in charge, and he very much enjoyed letting her.

He looked at her as she focused on her task. She was so terribly beautiful, his lovely wife. Dark hair falling in front of her eyes, slightly messy now that the day was over. Make up wiped away, just a few dark smudges left in the corner of one eye, and the scent of expensive perfume replaced with the smell of wildly overpriced moisturisers. As if age could ever touch her.

"You had a good day, my love?"

Jessica groaned.

"Don't. I've had so many hellishly frustrating phone calls I was very close to ripping the thing off the wall. The whole thing is a nightmare. I'd much rather focus on you, and how you can make it up to me, darling."

"Anything for you," he said with a grin, which earned him a kiss to his sternum.

She finished with his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders, and he took the opportunity to pull her into a kiss. She tasted of alcohol, and slid her tongue into his mouth and her hands into his hair and oh- it was perfection. He placed one hand on the back of her neck, another attempting to undo the buttons on her blouse, but she stopped him with a hand on his wrist, sharp nails digging into his skin.

“No,” she told him, “I don’t think so, not today. You’re being punished, remember my dear? I think we’re going to have to get your hands out of the way. Please, sit back for me, hmm?”

He did as she said, shifting back until he was leaning against the plush headboard, already feeling what felt like most of his blood rapidly descending. 

“What horrible tortures do you have in store for me today, then? Must I suffer through an explanation of the distinction between chic and elegance again? Be subjected to your family’s disapproval again?”

“Oh, no, nothing so taxing. But you have been such a bad boy, and I do think you need to be put in your place, reminded what you’re good for in this marriage. Now, give me your hands.”

He obliged, of course, as he always would, holding them out to her, watching her use his tie from earlier to bind them.

“Oh, come on, that’s my nice tie! Don’t you have some fluffy handcuffs laying around?”

“We’re rich, darling. All your ties are nice. Besides, those are all the way across the hall. Too far.”

Years into being married to Jessica he still wasn’t quite used to it, to being so absurdly rich that nice expensive things were just trivial basics. It was convenient, yes, but utterly absurd all the same. He did hope it wouldn’t mess Ainsley and Malcolm up too badly, being raised into this. He loved Jessica, loved her so much, but she was a bizarre human being sometimes. Then again, he was a serial killer, so perhaps he didn’t really have the moral high ground in this relationship.

Jessica fastened his tied hands to a hook he had screwed into the headboard for just that purpose a few years earlier. He rather enjoyed being tied up like this, letting Jessica take charge, have her way with him. She smiled at him, the smug and amused look on her face familiar and reassuring.

“Your mind’s not on the matter at hand. Let’s see if we can fix this, shall we?”

She nudged his legs apart, settling between them. Slowly, so slowly, making sure he was paying attention, she began to unbutton her blouse, dark fabric gradually opening to reveal smooth, pale skin, the black lacy pattern of her bra. She slipped the blouse of her shoulders, reaching behind her back to unhook the bra, removing that too. His hands tugged at the ties, needing so badly to be on her that his brain barely had time to get involved in the process. There was a smile on her lips as she rose to step gracefully out of her skirt and underwear.

“Patience, my darling,” she told him, cruelly proceeding to fold her clothes neatly for several minutes.

It felt like hours to Martin, like days and months and eons, before she was once again on the bed, settling over him, her hips either side of his, the hot wetness so tantalisingly close. He dark eyes were looking down at him, her lips curled into a smirk, her hands resting against his chest, fingers curling into the hair there. She shifted, and her thigh just grazed his rigid, straining cock, and he whined, needing the friction so badly, needing her more than anything.

“Please, Jess…”

“Please what, darling?”

“Anything, just- I’ll do anything, my love, just touch me.”

She laughed, just a tad theatrical, just a little bit smug. God, she was good at this. At just by her very existence, with the slightest effort driving him mad. At pulling him apart and prying out all that he was. Well, with one minor exception.

Jessica leaned in, pressing a too light and chaste kiss to his lips, one hand on his jaw, sharp nails scraping against sensitive skin. Then fingers were closing around him, stroking, perfect, but still shy of being enough, being what he needed.

“Jess,” he gasped, “please-”

“You seem to forget, my dear, that this is punishment.”

“Ah, well,” he replied, willing, at this point, to say almost anything, as long as she would just- “I feel- I feel terribly bad, mea culpa, I’ll repent, I’ll flagellate myself for you-”

“Will you shut up, too, dear, if I ask nicely?”

She could be so cruel sometimes, and it, if anything, made him want her all the more, if that was even possible. He nodded mutely, and she gave him a satisfied and only gently mocking smile.

Jessica moved, guiding his cock into her, at last. She sunk down gradually, and he could feel her expanding around him, accommodating, yet still perfectly tight and slick. His eyes fell closed and his mouth open, a soft gasp escaping his lips. He used all the self-regulation at his disposal not to start to move immediately, to whatever degree he was able in this position. Let her adjust to his precense within her.

When she started to move, sliding almost off him, then sinking down again, he thought, briefly, that if he died at this very moment, he would be quite happy about it. It was so much, the feeling of her around him, her hands, back on his chest now, the smooth fabric of his tie digging into his wrists, which were rapidly going slightly numb from the angle, from his blood finding more fruitful parts of his body to relocate to.

He looked up at her, saw the concentration on her face, the slight flush spreading out from her chest, watched with rapt attention the way her breasts moved. He tried to move, tried to contribute, to not just use her, or be used by her, whatever the case might be, though she certainly seemed to be enjoying herself as far as he could see. It did little, though, other than cause her to still, to look down at him, pretending at frustration, though he felt her clench around him, which rather ruined the effect in a lovely way. He smiled in a way meant to be apologetic but likely veering far closer to smug.

“Bastard,” she murmured with a fond smile, her nails scraping down his chest.

One nail, so sharp as to almost resemble a claw, caught on his nipple, the perfect combination of painful and arousing, and he shifted, trying helplessly to get more leverage, more opportunity for movement. She took pity on him, starting to move again, at a steady pace, building the tension within them both. 

It took all the self control he had not to come before Jessica, especially when he was unable to help her along, to do anything but let her fuck herself on his cock. He longed so to get his hands on her, his mouth. To lick into her, to make her squirm with pleasure. But it seemed that was off the table for now. Not punishing enough, perhaps, though if this was meant to deter him from his crimes (both real and contrived excuses for tying him up), it wasn’t working.

At last she clenched around him, hard, her nails digging into his skin, toes curling, head thrown back. She kept moving, riding him lazily through her aftershocks, until the tension became too much, until he spilled inside her.

“Love you,” he told her, breathless despite his lack of involvement in the actual moving.

“You too, darling,” she told him, easing herself off him, and leaning in to give him a soft kiss, all post orgasmic tenderness.

She lay down beside him, resting her head on his chest, an arm and leg thrown over him. He waited a moment, to see if she would do so on her own before he asked if she would, perhaps, consider untying him.

“Mmm,” she replied without opening her eyes, “later, darling, you’re very comfortable like this.”

He sighed, deliberately loud, and began to try to free himself without jostling her too much. It was made somewhat difficult by the fact that he could neither see nor feel his hands at this point, and it took him almost five minutes to wriggle free of his bonds. He shook his hands, waiting for the circulation to return before resting a hand on Jessica’s shoulder, the other petting through her hair as she fell asleep and he mildly regretted not being able to turn of the lights from his current position.

**Author's Note:**

> Just really love both these characters and, surely, before all the arresting business, they must have had excellent sex because man, I am so horny for the both of them, and for the new episode on tuesday.


End file.
